


Midlife Crisis

by mizukiakabayashis (kraykei)



Category: Free!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kraykei/pseuds/mizukiakabayashis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rin learns that getting older means things change, but the important ones stay the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midlife Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know when i first wrote this but i found it again recently and just had to edit and post it. rin and haru would make the grossest middle aged retired olympian couple and i burn every time i think about this. shoutout to [hannah](http://beardogs.tumblr.com/) for betaing this for me like always!!

“So, how does it feel to be an old man?”

When Rin had looked at the caller ID and seen Sousuke was calling, he’d been naïve enough to think he was getting another nice happy birthday message like the ones left by Gou, his mother, and his other friends. But, really, he should’ve expected this.

“Fuck off, Sousuke, you were forty first.”

Even muffled by distance, Sousuke’s little laugh at successfully teasing his best friend sounded the same as it had in their childhood. It was just as irritating as it had been back then, too.  “Come on, didn’t you know I’d take advantage of this like you did?”

Suddenly, Rin regretted every rude comment he’d made to Sousuke on _his_ fortieth a few months ago—this was definitely deserved revenge. He wasn’t about to _admit_ that, though, so he just grumbled, “Shut up.”

“I didn’t trigger a midlife crisis, did I?” Sousuke asked, and even though he was obviously joking, the mere words _midlife crisis_ made Rin feel like one was approaching.  “Relax, Nanase’s still going to like you if you go bald.”

“I am _not_ going bald!”  Rin knew he sounded comically outraged, but even at forty he took pride in the fact his red hair remained vibrant.  And that he _had_ some.  “And will you stop calling him Nanase?”

“Nah.”

“We’ve been married for ten years.”

“ _You’re_ not the one calling him Nanase,” Sousuke pointed out, and Rin knew from experience that he wasn’t going to cave today, if ever. There had always been a weird tension surrounding Sousuke and Haru, especially in the early days of Rin and Haru’s relationship.  But it had been years—Rin _knew_ they secretly got along now. They hung out sometimes, even. Sousuke _liked_ Haru.  He probably didn’t use Haru’s last name to his face anymore, only to Rin out of pure stubbornness. But as long as they didn’t fight anymore, Rin didn’t care.  They were getting way too old for that kind of adolescent drama.

Sousuke interrupted the contemplative silence that had fallen. “Seriously, Rin, happy birthday,” he said, his voice softer, almost sincere enough to make up for his earlier taunts. Almost. 

“Thanks, but don’t think I’m not giving you shit in November,” Rin warned him, unable to suppress a smirk just thinking of an opportunity to get back at his best friend.  “You’ll be _over_ forty.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Sousuke said, not sounding particularly worried.  “Now go have your birthday brunch or whatever domestic nightmare you guys have planned for today.”

Ever since he and Haru had started dating, Sousuke had taken every chance possible to point out how _gross_ the two of them were. It was just because _he_ had no sense of romance, but Rin couldn’t point that out without getting teased. “He’s making me dinner, actually.”

At that, Sousuke let out a short huff that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter. “Glad to hear you’re still wild in your old age.”

In the few seconds before Rin hung up on him, he heard Sousuke start to laugh for real.  He just couldn’t resist the chance to ruin the moment, could he?

Well, at least _some_ things hadn’t changed.

 

\---

 

Rin hadn’t really noticed that his friends had grown up until after his own wedding, which was, honestly, almost embarrassing.

To be fair, his twenties had been a rush of constant activity and churning emotions.  Between winning gold in multiple Olympics and falling in love with Haru, he’d been too busy handling the chaos of his own life to notice anyone else’s.  Then, suddenly, everything had started…happening.

Makoto was married, which was bad enough on its own, but soon he had _kids_ , too. They visited often and called Haru their uncle, which was unfairly adorable. Once, Makoto had turned to Rin with a gentle smile and said _you’re their uncle too, you know_ , which absolutely did _not_ make him cry, just tear up a little. But who could blame him?

Then, of course, had been Gou’s wedding. Rin had somehow managed to keep it together walking her down the aisle in their father’s place, but everything fell apart when he decided to give a speech at the reception.  He made it halfway through until, yeah, he definitely cried.

Everyone else, too, settled into stable lives and careers, even people Rin never could have imagined growing up successfully.  The day he realized, _holy shit_ , Nagisa was a responsible adult who went to work and paid taxes, was the day he realized he, too, had gotten old.  Turning forty just made it worse.

But age was just a number, right?  He’d repeated those words to himself countless times while examining his shirtless body in the mirror in growing dismay, hoping he’d eventually believe it.

It wasn’t working today.

Rin had always taken pride in his body—as an Olympic swimmer, it’d been his career.  He still ran regularly, but he didn’t have the time (or, worse, the _stamina_ ) for the intense training regimen he’d followed in his youth.  And it was starting to show.  He was still fit for a man his age, but the slight softening of his body upset him anyway.  His arms weren’t as defined as they used to be; his abs were no longer perfectly chiseled. Gone were the days of his so-called perfect body.

Rin poked at his stomach experimentally, frowning at the slight give he encountered where he once would’ve found rock-hard muscle.  By the standards he’d began enforcing as a teenager, he was _horribly_ out of shape.  But he wasn’t a teenager anymore. And that was the problem.

“Rin?”

Embarrassingly, he’d been so engrossed in his own reflection he hadn’t noticed Haru enter the room until he spoke. Expecting his husband to say something mundane like _we need to buy more garbage bags_ , he replied with a simple, “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” Haru asked, probably because it wasn’t exactly normal for Rin to stand in front of the mirror flexing (at least not anymore, but Haru didn’t have to know _every_ embarrassing story from his adolescence).

Because _oh, just lamenting my decreased muscle mass_ was out of the question, Rin just said, “Nothing.”

Haru frowned.  “You look upset.”

“I’m fine.”

Sometimes, Haru would let an obvious lie like that slide, but today unfortunately wasn’t one of those days.  Instead, he walked over and stood next to Rin so their reflections were side-by-side in the full-length mirror.  “You’re not having a midlife crisis, right?”

“ _No,_ what’s with all of you?”  Before Haru could ask, Rin explained, “Sousuke said the same thing when he called this morning.”

Haru’s features quirked into an expression of slight disdain, probably because he hated being reminded that he and Sousuke were similar to the point of accidentally speaking in unison.   “You’re forty now. It’s possible.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Rin insisted, but it didn’t sound convincing even in his own ears.

“Hm.”

Haru didn’t speak after that, simply stood there, waiting like he expected him to add something else.  After so many years together, he probably _knew_ Rin had more to say, just like he knew if he was silent long enough Rin would keep talking on his own.  It was infuriating because it worked.

“…I’m getting out of shape,” Rin said finally, poking again at his too-soft abdomen. 

Haru cut him off before he could continue.  “No.”

“You _know_ I am.”  Rin eyed Haru’s own stomach, covered by the ridiculous sweater he’d insisted on wearing multiple times a week since Rei got it for him at Christmas.  Rin said it made him look like a frumpy old man; Haru said he didn’t care.  Under that stupid sweater, Haru was probably losing muscle definition too, he realized. He just hadn’t _noticed_ , because he didn’t look at his husband’s body with the same critical eye he did his own.

If Haru saw him staring, he didn’t comment on it.  “I don’t care if you’re out of shape,” he said, which was far from comforting.

“So you admit it?”

At the obvious attempt to argue, Haru frowned at him again—god, if he kept that up, he was going to get _wrinkles_ , probably.  He already had a few lines on his face from countless expressions and hours spent swimming outside without sunscreen.  Rin didn’t usually pay attention to them (he was always too busy looking into Haru’s eyes). But they were _there_.

“You’re not getting out of shape,” Haru said.  “But if you do, I won’t care.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but, as he examined their reflections, Haru’s words started to make sense. It was nothing obvious—because unlike _some_ people Rin actually moisturized—but he, too, had lines on his face that signified he wasn’t exactly twenty-five anymore. Haru still had all his hair, but its dark color easily revealed the few gray strands mixed in with the black. Just the sight of them made Rin feel better about the single gray hair he’d discovered, removed, and denied just less than a week earlier.

Of _course_ Haru didn’t mind him getting older, because Rin wasn’t the only one. He and Haru were doing it like they’d done so much else: side by side.

As if Haru had read his mind, he turned to Rin and said: “We can get out of shape together.” 

Once the weight of his words sunk in, Rin could do nothing but stare in awe until Haru looked away, a slight redness coloring his cheeks. All these years later he was _still_ embarrassed. But it was too late.  He’d said something…romantic.

Rin’s chest felt tight like he was twelve years old again, watching a beautiful boy swim, a boy who inspired countless feelings he couldn’t understand beyond the fact they made his heart race.  Would Haruka Nanase ever stop doing this to him?

“Rin.  Don’t cry.”

“I’m not,” was his instinctive reply, but he hadn’t even noticed the tears in his eyes until Haru pointed them out. Crying at a line like that was excessive, even for him, but sometimes he was just overcome by how completely in _love_ he was with Haru.  Haru, his _husband_ , who _loved him too_.

How the hell had he gotten so lucky?

Without saying another word, he reached out and took Haru’s hand in his.  It was the same as it had always been—slender and colder than Rin’s own, but dry and calloused from frequent swimming and, more recently, gardening. Since retiring, they had nothing but free time.  Rin ran his fingertip over the smooth metal of Haru’s wedding band, a habit he’d picked up in the past ten years.  It was reassuring to touch the physical reminder that, yes, this was real, they were _married_ , Haru loved him as much as he loved Haru. 

Thinking about _that_ made his earlier despair over his abs seem pretty pointless.  Yeah, he was getting older—so what?  He was doing it with _Haru_.  He still wasn’t exactly happy with aging, but at least he wouldn’t be doing it alone.

When Rin sighed, he felt all the energy drain from his body—having a midlife crisis was _exhausting_.  He was still the taller one (the ultimate victory, in his mind), but he and Haru were close enough in height Rin could pull him close and comfortably rest his chin on his shoulder. He smile softly as Haru relaxed against him, letting Rin feel the familiar rhythm of his heartbeat.

Really, being forty wouldn’t be so bad as long as they could stay like this.

“I love you,” he said, the words that would’ve once caused him so much anxiety and embarrassment falling easily from his lips.

When Haru spoke, Rin could feel the vibrations in his own chest.  “I love you too,” he said, even though he really didn’t have to. Rin was more confident in that than anything else in the world. 

They speak didn’t for a while, content with just the physical closeness of one another. If they’d been lying down, Rin was pretty sure at least one of them would’ve fallen asleep in the comfort of their embrace. For once, it was Haru broke the silence, his breath was hot and too close to Rin’s ear when he said, “Since you’re forty, are you mature enough to admit I’m faster yet?”

They’d been having a _moment,_ but Rin couldn’t help the competitive spark that flared up inside him. Those were fighting words, and even though was his husband, he’d been his rival first.  He pulled away just far enough for Haru to be able to see when he flashed a grin that showed off his teeth. “I’m not too old to kick your ass.”

“We’ll see,” Haru said, blue eyes shining with a familiar intensity. Rin knew a challenge when he heard one, and he was more than ready to accept. It wouldn’t be the first time in their retirement they had an over-enthusiastic race at the local pool.

But all that could wait, because right now all Rin _really_ wanted to do was lean in and press their lips together. So he did, pleased when Haru kissed back immediately, as if he’d expected Rin to make a move all along. It didn’t matter how many times they did this, or _what_ his muscles looked like. Haru would always make Rin’s heart beat a little faster.

Yeah, getting older didn’t really have to change anything at all.


End file.
